


all the things you are

by chaehyungwonies



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chaptered, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-27 07:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15680379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaehyungwonies/pseuds/chaehyungwonies
Summary: mark lee is a young flute prodigy content with his position in his school orchestra but when the music department decides to bridge a too-common gap between classical music and jazz music and uses mark as the bridge, he learns the new transfer student saxophonist wong yukhei is hellbent on not accepting mark in his jazz world.





	1. equipoise

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello !! this is my first nct fic but i saw this tweet about mark on flute and yukhei on saxophone so i thought it would be fun to write about smth inspired by my own experiences in music w these two hehe also markhei rise .
> 
> the title is named after a song by jerome kern!
> 
> [ updates are periodic but i will do my best to fit to a schedule ]

Mark loves music with every fiber of his being. He finds it impossible to imagine a world where he isn’t continuously constructing sounds that evoke emotions he can’t even begin to describe. Mark’s instrument of choice early on during his musical career is flute, a metal stick built for high pitched wheezing only second to the piercing sounds from a piccolo. That’s what his younger brother Jisung would always say early on when Mark would come back from a lesson and practice his most recent works at home. Mark doesn’t expect to like flute as much as he does, figuring maybe one day he’ll switch to clarinet or oboe, but something about the airy tones from the instrument calls to his heart. 

 

He has an advantage of starting young compared to other kids in his orchestra. His tiny hands had quickly adjusted to the awkward positioning needed for the metal device to rest on his thumbs, his small pink lips puckered as he blew too hard trying to find the correct embouchure for a perfect tone. By the time Mark begins high school when he moves out to South Korea from Canada to spend more time with his extended family, the young boy is essentially a prodigy. During his senior year, he gets plenty of scholarship offers for various universities across the world, flying out for auditions in his final semester. He’s half tempted to go to a music conservatory but they are a huge drain on the wallet in the first place and some of the most prestigious ones he’s interested in are out of the country, which makes it even more costly. On top of this, he’s hesitant to leave the friends he’s made after only such a short time of getting to know many of them. Jisung is planning to move out to Korea too, which really makes Mark want to stay even more to spend time with his brother.

 

A full scholarship to the music program at an American university seals the deal for Mark in the end, taking him to the eastern coast of the country for a chance at his dreams with flute.

 

The first year in the music program comes with ups and downs Mark takes with stride. He becomes lead chair for the woodwinds and flute section in orchestra along with being student body president and a representative for the classical music program on campus. Needless to say, he’s extremely busy and already has a schedule planned to the minute for how to juggle all his extra activities on top of his core musicianship classes, the lessons and small ensembles he needs to keep his scholarship, practice time to keep up his skills, and time to hang out with his friends.

 

Then the orchestra staff decides to breach into very unfamiliar territory early on in the spring semester of his sophomore year.

 

“The NCT Orchestra is working on a collaboration with the jazz program on campus,” starts the conductor, smiling with his words as collective murmurs ripple through the crowd.

 

Mark raises a confused eyebrow and makes eye contact with Donghyuck who is sitting at a piano across the way. Donghyuck shrugs haphazardly and Mark turns back to the conductor when he hears Jeno behind him in the clarinet section mumbling about how stupid this idea already sounds.

 

“We have gathered a handful of orchestra students to join NCT U—the jazz big band—and some of the higher level jazz quintets.” The conductor continues on. “In exchange, a few saxophonists, trumpeters, and drummers will be joining the orchestra.”

 

“Who is going to NCT U?” asks Chenle, who is the first chair for second violin. He’s a senior in high school but was able to join the orchestra for his incredible talents. He also plays guitar in the theatre pit for shows at the university. Mark believes Chenle should be first chair for first violin but understands the school wanting to keep an enrolled student in that position.

 

“So far, we’ve decided on one student for sure. NCT U sometimes rehearses at the same time as us so this student will have to sacrifice their time here for the collaboration. On that note, we don’t want to lose too many of our orchestra members for rehearsals so this student may end up being the only one joining NCT U.” Sighs from some of the first chairs echo through the rehearsal hall. The conductor smirks and places his baton down on his conductor stand. “I’m sure the flute section will work well with this absence. A tenor saxophonist will join the woodwinds section and I believe Renjun is definitely up to the task of being our new first chair for flute.”

 

It takes a moment for Mark to understand the implication but Renjun’s loud gasp makes it click for him not too long after the initial statement.

 

“Me?” Mark exclaims, grip on his flute tightening. “I’ve never performed jazz before!”

 

“Exactly; that’s the point of this collaboration. The divide between classical and jazz persists in music programs across the world but you may find yourself out in the real world playing both. This is the perfect opportunity for you to develop your skills in something you’re not comfortable with.”

 

“What if I don’t want to join NCT U?”

 

“You don’t have to—it’s all up to you—but the music department would be forever grateful for your contribution to this project, Mr. Lee.”

 

Mark glares into his stand, the black dots on the treble clef staff blurring into meaningless blotches of ink. This isn’t something he ever intended to do; he doesn’t know a single thing about jazz articulations or swing or anything along those lines. He doesn’t have to do it but everyone on campus knows Mark never turns down a challenge. If he declines this offer he knows he’ll always be wondering about how much musical knowledge he missed out on by not trying out jazz for a semester.

 

“I’ll do it,” he states, looking up at his conductor, who smiles happily. “Renjun is definitely the right person to take my spot while I rehearse with NCT U.”

 

Renjun blushes furiously at Mark’s side but smiles as he looks down at his feet. Mark grins to himself; he’s actually happy that Renjun, a freshman, gets to be first chair, if only for 16 weeks. “I’m honored to lead the flute section this semester.”

 

The conductor seems excited about the ordeal and immediately sends Mark on his way to the NCT U band room.

 

Mark feels nervous as he walks out the building in a direction he’s never traversed. The jazz program’s classrooms and rehearsal halls seem like an entirely different world even though there’s not much different about this particular building. As he walks, the young man wracks his brain to think of any jazz song he can remember so he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of everyone if the director decides to ask Mark about any jazz experience.

 

The only song Mark can think of is _Take Five_ , which gives him a bad feeling in his gut. He remembers an instance when one of his friends from Canada grumbled about how _Take Five_ is the only song non-jazz orientated people seem to know. Maybe it’s the perfect answer if the question is asked given Mark really knows nothing about how to play this music. His flute case handle burns in his hand as he approaches the room number 127. There’s sounds of talking from behind the door and Mark is half tempted to rush back to the orchestra rehearsal hall and tell his conductor he didn’t want to interrupt the band chat but the door opens before the idea fully forms in his head.

 

“Are you lost?” the man in front of him asks, brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.

 

“No,” stutters Mark, waving his flute case as if that would answer everything. The stranger cocks his head and Mark sighs. “No, I’m not lost. I’m here to play with NCT U.”

 

“Oh, you’re the flute player! Huh, didn’t expect Mr. Soo to send over his best flautist.” the silver haired man shakes his head and motions for Mark to follow him inside.

 

The room doesn’t look much different from the orchestra rehearsal hall though the organization of the band isn’t in a semi-circle like in orchestra. The instruments are ordered in rows with saxophones up front, trombones behind them, and trumpets standing in the back. To the right of the baritone saxophonist sits the piano, guitar, bass, and drums. The director stands in the front, eyeing Mark as he makes his way over to him.

 

“This is our flute guy,” the stranger who led Mark in states.

 

The director smiles and reaches out a hand for a handshake. “Oh, Mark Lee; it’s nice to finally meet you.”

 

“The pleasure is mine,” Mark smiles warmly, returning the shake before turning out to the group. His eyes lock with an alto player in the middle of the saxophone row, his big vibrant brown eyes full with emotion Mark can’t quite decipher. Mark’s never seen the other man on campus; he would surely remember the handsome face before him if he had.

 

“Taeyong, mind sharing with Mark what we’re working on? He can sit next to you for now while we work out the kinks in this chart.”

 

“Wouldn’t it be better for him to sit with Lucas since he’s taking over the doubling?”  
  
“He’s _what_?” the alto saxophonist Mark had his eyes on shouts in protest. “I can play flute perfectly fine; why do we need someone who has never touched jazz in his life doing it for me?”  
  
“I’ve touched jazz!” retorts Mark, hating his tongue for the sudden outburst.

 

Lucas turns his eyes on Mark with a glare. “What’s your favorite song? And if you say _Take Five_ , you’re only proving me right.”

 

Mark feels his cheeks burn and he glares at his feet as he mumbles a measly, “I know _Take Five_.”

 

“Lucas, lay off,” barks Taeyong, rolling his eyes as he sits back in his seat and flicks Lucas’ forehead on the way over.

 

Lucas snaps his jaw at the other man before turning back to the director. “I’m serious; I can take on doubling fine. He can play the second alto part; I’m sure Jungwoo won’t mind.”

 

“Hey,” Jungwoo starts with a pout, his voice soft and gentle in comparison to Lucas’ loud mouth and Taeyong’s gruff tone. “I wouldn’t mind but think about how much easier your part on _In a Sentimental Mood_ will be if you don’t have to worry about switching between flute and alto.”

 

“It’s not that big of a deal; I’ve done this for years I can handle another semester.”

 

The director speaks up with a sigh in his voice. “Lucas, there’s not going to be an argument about this. You said you were super excited to have a new person in band.”

 

“Not like this!”

 

Lucas’ tone sounds scandalous and Mark frowns before replying. “If I’m not wanted here I can return to my orchestra where I am wanted and _needed_.”

 

“Then go. No one is stopping you.”

 

“Xuxi!”

 

The complaining alto saxophonist turns to look back in the trombone section where a man with pink hair glares at him with enough fury. The stranger starts speaking in a language Mark can’t quite understand and Lucas spits back at him, rolling his eyes before turning back to the front of class. “Sicheng told me to stop being mean, so I’ll stop being mean. Welcome to NCT U, Mark.”

 

Usually Mark would say _happy to be here_ , but the energy Lucas is emitting about his presence doesn’t make him feel welcome at all. He turns to the director with a forced smile. “I think I’ll sit and watch from afar. It’s better to get to hear how the group sounds before jumping into the mix.”

 

The director nods and ushers Mark to his seat before the band returns to rehearsing a latin groovebased version of a song titled _Giant Steps_. Mark doesn’t listen to jazz on his own time; he’s never been to a jazz concert so this is the first jazz experience he’s had live. The group is shaky in some areas, obviously new to the chart, but Mark is in awe at how smooth the voices sound in the arrangement. Jungwoo’s brow is furrowed in the middle as he blows into his mouthpiece, Taeyong at his side looking unafraid as he runs through a tough saxophone soli. Lucas surprisingly looks the most unstressed, burning through his part with ease and standing up to take a solo over the fast moving changes.

 

Mark’s fascination with jazz begins here: knowing that Lucas is improvising on the spot over this section in the song. It reminds Mark of the cadenza at the end of a classical piece, how they create an entire section based off the melody in the style of the piece. They’re very similar, but there’s something about the way Lucas accents his notes, the way he swings slightly against the straight latin beat, the way he growls some of his notes when climbing up the scale and whispers those same notes when coming down. Mark’s enamored with the other man’s rich tone and when Lucas finishes, he looks over at Mark and winks before sitting back down, mouthpiece between his lips as he continues the song with the rest of the band.

 

The flautist clutches his flute case tighter and stares at the ground until the end, only looking up when the director starts talking about parts to develop more during sectionals later in the week. As the director picks out a new song, Lucas starts chatting with Jungwoo and points at the other man’s music here and there, Jungwoo nodding with intent and marking up his music with notes. Sicheng calls for Lucas and they chat in that foreign language again—Mark suspects it’s Chinese from what he can tell—and Lucas laughs.

 

Lucas’ laughter is just as enticing as his soloing. Mark can feel his heart skip a beat at the sound and he grumbles to himself, wondering why Lucas is so intent on disliking Mark when Mark would rather hear the other man’s laughter more often. Too absorbed in the way the carpet looks under his feet, Mark misses when the director is at his side until said director is asking him if he wants to play. He shudders with surprise and doesn’t miss Lucas’ chuckle at the fact.

 

“You can play this next chart with us. It’s called _Equipoise_ and shouldn’t be too hard for you to grasp.” Mark takes the music passed to him while he’s led to sit next to the other tenor saxophonist he doesn’t know the name of yet. Once settled in, he unlocks his case and grabs his flute as the director continues. “You have the melody with Lucas on alto and Doyoung on piano.”

 

Mark looks up from piecing together his flute and smiles warmly as he places his sheet music on the spare stand before him. “Okay.”

 

The band scans the music together, noting the ballad like feel of the song, the flute and piano soli, the saxophone solo section that brings in a new drum beat change and dynamics. Mark feels nervous when he puts the flute to his lips, unsure of what tone the director wants from him. It’s probably a dangerous idea to put Mark on the bandstand before he’s even heard the song but it’s a fun challenge and he’s going to do as best he can to prove to the director and everyone else in the band that he can stake his claim.

 

The song is gorgeous; the melody outlines arpeggios and falls like the waves off a cliffside, crashing gently into the next progression until the arranged piano-flute soli starts. Mark can feel everyone eyes on him as he plays but he focuses on counting and getting the notes as smooth as possible, paying attention to the sostenutos and tenutos on various notes, along with the dynamics that bring the song to it’s peak in time for Lucas’ solo. Mark places his flute down with a huff and turns to watch Lucas, whose bright eyes are tied to the page for only a few seconds. The saxophonist’s eyes slide shut and he pulls the mouth piece from his mouth for a second, licking his red plump lips before placing the mouthpiece back into his mouth and holding out a single note for two bars. The note burns with heavy vibrato, wavering against the progression in a manner that should clash but the chords Doyoung chooses against Lucas’ solo make it work. Lucas pulls out his mouthpiece again, adjusts the neck strap on his saxophone and then starts a smooth melody, echoing the phrasing of the original melody. Mark distantly wonders if Lucas has ever played this song before; he sounds too good to _not_ already know how to traverse the changes. Then again, Mark has no real marker to know whether or not Lucas’ solo is “good" but he does know it does something to his chest and evokes emotion from him like all music should, so he considers it good enough for him at least.

 

After the climax of Lucas’ solo the rest of the band comes in to finish off the tune against a drum solo, calming down until it’s just Mark and Doyoung much like the beginning of the arrangement. Mark places his flute in his lap at the director’s nod, turning to look at Jungwoo, Taeyong, and Lucas, who are murmuring amongst themselves about intonation and accent markings. The tenor player next to him smiles warmly and introduces himself as Johnny, telling Mark he sounded pretty good for his first time playing jazz. Mark smiles shyly and rubs at the back of his head. He barely remembers what he sounded like but it was fun being immersed in the beautiful song.

 

The director claps a few times and brings the class’ attention back to him for an announcement. “That sounded absolutely wonderful; there’s a few things we’ll need to fix like intonation for the saxophone lines and Lucas and Mark will have to work on how much vibrato is needed on the melody against Doyoung’s chordal comping. Otherwise, that was an amazing first read through.” Everyone smiles and nods at each other with pride. Mark doesn’t quite understand what _chordal comping_ means but he figures he’ll find out soon enough. “That being said,” continues the director, “we’re off to a pretty good start. I’ll bring in some harder tunes in odd meters and maybe a few swing ones as well.”

 

Mark feels his chest give way at the word _swing_. He knows the swing beat is difficult to master and that there’s different interpretations of it that are hard to get down pat. Much like trying to figure out the level of vibrato for classical songs from Romantic to Baroque periods, jazz has different forms of swing for different eras too. Mark is completely blind when going down the swing road and it’ll take extra work outside of his classes to study and understand what swing feel he needs to know for the songs.

 

The director seems to read Mark’s thoughts or at least know that swing is going to be an issue for him, and pulls him aside at the end of the class session for a chat. “Lucas, you too,” he adds on, making Lucas groan as he zips up his saxophone case.

 

“What’s up?” the taller man asks, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets. While standing next to each other Mark notices how large the saxophonist is and how small he makes Mark feel. A flute would probably look like a piccolo in his hands; the alto saxophone already looked like a play toy in his hands anyway.

 

“Mark has never played jazz before and will probably need help learning the swing feel.”

 

Mark can already see where this is going from a mile away and steps in to keep Lucas from protesting and making the situation worse. “I don’t want to waste anymore unnecessary time with people outside of class if I can. I have a lot of other things to work on as do they and I’m sure I can study swing on my own!”

 

Lucas looks down at Mark and crosses his arms. His brown eyes are slightly narrowed but he turns to the director with a smile. “I agree. I have a lot of work to catch up on being a transfer student halfway through the year. If he can teach himself, then he should.”

 

“Lucas, Mark,” the older man sighs, “I’m sorry you two are already off to a rough start; I should have alerted you earlier of the plan, Lucas, but I had only found out earlier in the day.” Lucas snorts but nods with respect at the same time. Mark scowls. “If we want this to be a smooth integration, Mark is going to need to learn how to swing like you. He’ll be playing the flute parts you used to play or doubling your part with you, so it’s best you two can blend.”

 

Mark opens his mouth to protest but nothing comes out. It’s a good point, one he can’t refute, so he leave the rebuttal to Lucas. The saxophonist unfortunately doesn’t have one planned. “Fine,” he starts, biting at his bottom lip. “But can I get some extra credit out of this? Since I’m going to be teaching someone for free.”

 

The director laughs and pats Lucas’ shoulder. “Sure. I’ll talk to the department head and let you know. For now, you two should chat and get a schedule worked out. Let me know what it is as soon as possible so I can pass that info along as well.”

 

Lucas nods and says thanks, adjusting the strap of his saxophone case on his shoulder before turning to look down at Mark. Mark feels even smaller and steps back so he doesn’t have to look up at the other man. “What days and times work best for you?”

 

“Um,” starts Mark, pulling out his phone to look at his schedule. He still hasn’t talked to his conductor about what days he’ll be missing for the orchestra, let alone any extra sectional rehearsals he might have to attend or miss because of jazz band sectionals or performances.

 

Lucas chuckles and takes Mark’s phone from his hand, Mark yelping in surprise before a scowl settles on his face. The transfer students just smirks and starts typing on the device. “I’m giving you my number; just text me when you’re free. I have a lesson after band rehearsal today and don’t have the time to figure out our overlapping free time.” Lucas passes back the phone and stuffs his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. “I hear you’re student body president.”

 

“Yes, you’ve heard correctly.” Mark pockets his phone and grips his flute case tighter. “I haven’t heard anything about you though. Until now.” He looks off to the side to avoid eye contact. “You sound really good; I could feel all the emotion you were trying to evoke from your playing.”

 

Mark quickly glances up to see if Lucas is still scowling but the flautist notices that the other man is smiling warmly, suddenly a bit shy by the compliment. He chuckles lightly and rubs at the back of his head, looking out the window on the other side of the room. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if I was doing too well with my solo on _Equipoise_ but if a newbie like you could feel things I guess I did a good job.”

 

“I know how music works, Lucas, I’m not a newbie to the concept of creating feelings through music.”

 

The other man frowns at his name and confusion mars itself in Mark’s brow at that fact. Lucas doesn’t say anything more though and merely nods before walking out the room, leaving Mark as he pats Jungwoo’s dark blue hair when he walks by. Jungwoo looks up at Lucas with a soft smile as the man passes and smiles wider when his eyes land on Mark as he scans the room. The saxophonist almost skips over to Mark with a cheery air about him, making Mark forget the fact that the person he’s supposed to get help from doesn’t even want him here.

 

“I’m super excited to be working with you,” the blue haired man begins, holding out a hand for a handshake. “I’m Kim Jungwoo; I never officially introduced myself after all. Lucas is a little bitter right now, what with the transfer and having to get used to a community he has no idea about, but jazz is what keeps him connected here.” The man sighs as he looks back toward the door Lucas had left from. “He shouldn’t be this upset about someone doubling his part, but he’s been the best here since his arrival and taking on so much. It probably feels like the director doesn’t think he can handle it.”

 

“The director recommended Lucas to teach me, so I’m sure that’s not it.” Mark runs a hand through his dark locks and sighs. “I don’t care about that though. I’m here because I want to represent the classical program well, nothing more and nothing else.”

 

“Hopefully you want to make some friends, right?”

 

Jungwoo sounds hopeful and Mark smiles kindly. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

 

“I’ll be your first!”

 

The flautist laughs and nods happily, a warmth in his chest at Jungwoo’s excited smile. “I’m glad you’re my first jazz instrumentalist friend here.”

 

“You make it sounds like a clique, we’re so not like that,” the saxophonist chuckles with his words. “We’re all musicians, that’s the point this project is trying to make I’m sure. We can blend our styles together to make awesome music. I really hope to hear how Yukhei influences your sound from here on out.”

 

Mark frowns. “Yukhei?”

 

Jungwoo’s eyes go wide. “Right, he tells Americans to call him Lucas so they don’t butcher pronouncing his name. Yukhei is his birthname, Xuxi if you speak Mandarin. He’s Thai and Chinese! We’re roommates, which is why I know all of this.”

 

“Oh,” is all Mark says, shuffling on his feet as he guesses Lucas’ reaction to being called Lucas was from not being used to using that name rather than being uncomfortable with Mark. “Hey, when did he transfer here?”

 

“Late last semester, almost at the beginning of finals season. It was pretty sudden.”

 

Jungwoo’s voice decreases in excitement so Mark decides not to ask anymore questions about whatever brough Yukhei to the States. He simply smiles and thanks Jungwoo for his time before making his way out of room 127 to get to his council meeting on time.

 

Late that night after council, a lesson, a meeting with his music advisor, dinner, and some figured bass studying in the library, Mark finds himself sitting at his desk in his room. Donghyuck sits across the way on his own bed, click away on his computer about something Mark could care less about at the moment. Mark himself stares at the new number in his phone, the contact name Lucas Wong staring him in the face. He’s half tempted to change it to Wong Yukhei, partially because he’s _not_ American thank you very much and also to respect the man’s still used birth name, but given Lucas hadn’t given Mark permission to use it, Mark feels uncomfortable about it all the same.

 

Mark clicks on the number and starts drafting a text, wondering what’s the best way to tell Lucas the only time he can rehearse is late at night after dinner which means taking up both of what little relaxation time they have.

 

_Hey, it’s me, Mark Lee. My most free time is after dinner, around 8 PM, every night but Thursdays because of flute sectional, Saturday because I might have some council meetings, and Sundays because of my personal practice time. Let me know what works for you._

 

Mark places the phone down with a sigh but finds himself surprised when it buzzes on his desk barely a minute later. Donghyuck looks up at the sound and smirks. “You’re popular tonight, aren’t you?”

 

“It was one text, Hyuck,” retorts Mark as he rolls his eyes but reads the message. 

 

**_8 PM_** is all it says and Mark frowns before noticing the ellipses that denote Lucas typing a message. **_that sadly works for me._** Mark raises and eyebrow and starts writing a text in reply but pauses when the ellipses return. **_works best on monday and wednesday nights for me._**

 

“Monday nights,” mumbles Mark, ignoring how Donghyuck snickers at the comment.

 

Lucas sends another text. **_would say friday too but gotta leave that night free ;)_**

 

Mark scoffs at his phone and rolls his eyes at the stupid winking emoticon. _haha very funny, if you have any ladies who would actually want to spend time with you._

 

**_i never said anything about ladies. the heterosexuality in you is strong, huh_ **

 

_Don’t have any in me._

 

**_oh???? figures you play flute_ **

 

_Oh please; you play saxophone._

 

**_i put a entire mouthpiece_ in _my mouth and blow it yet you assume im straight. tsk._**

 

Mark wheezes and Donghyuck looks up again. “You okay over there? Get a good contact picture selfie from that cute guy in Sociology last term? What was his name again; Jaemin, right?”

 

“Yeah but I’m not texting Jaemin.”

 

_Just because I said ladies doesn’t mean I didn’t think you’d like guys, too._

 

“Sad, he seemed like he really wanted to stay in contact.”

 

**_you make a point. but enough quibbling over who is the straighter rod here, which is you btw bc u blow air into a literal straight rod on a daily basis._ **

 

_You play it too last I heard._

 

“Yeah, maybe so.”

 

**_whatever. point is, mondays and wednesdays at 8 PM in room 127. i’ll teach you what you need. i am getting extra credit as i wanted so thx for that._ **

 

_I did nothing to make that happen but you’re welcome :)_

 

**_oh then i take back the thanks i was just trying to be nice bc jungwoo likes you_ **

 

_No take backs._

 

**_too late :P_ **

 

Mark starts to type _what did I even do to make you not like me, being a flute player can’t be your only reason_ but deletes the message before he gathers the nerve to send it. That’s a question better asked in person so he can get an actual response and gauge Lucas’ reaction. For now, he needs to rest to have proper energy for his daily morning run before theory class. At that realization, exhaustion makes it’s way to Marks body and he feels his eyes water as he stifles a yawn.

 

_I have to go; need to be up early tomorrow. Take care, tonight._

 

Mark stretches as he stands, shuffling his way onto Donghyuk’s bed to rest his head on the pianist’s shoulder. “Sleepy already?” chuckles the younger man, “usually you stay up for at least another 20 minutes.”

 

“It’s been a long day.”

 

The phone in Mark’s hand buzzes and he takes a glimpse at the notification on the lock screen. **_take care tonight??? who even says that. but ok lmao_**

 

“Laughing my ass off,” murmurs the black haired young man, realizing how truly tired he is from dealing with Lucas during band. “Doubt he’s actually laughing, more like frowning because he has to message me.”

 

Donghyuck closes his laptop and pulls Mark closer into him. “Sleep, okay? You can cuddle me tonight instead of that sad excuse of a watermelon plushie you keep on your bed.”

 

Mark lightly punches the other man’s shoulder, which makes Donghyuck petulantly whine but simultaneously curl in closer to Mark. The young man sighs and slides his eyes shut, feeling his friend’s warm hand squeeze his own with comfort before sleep takes over and the eventful day blurs out into a new one.


	2. au privave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “yeah,” mark stutters, fidgeting with the open page of his textbook. jaemin’s smile grows wider. “you gave me your number since we were on the same analysis team for the class project at the end of the term.”
> 
> jaemin furrows his brow and mark decides he’d be better off never opening his mouth again near this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 is here!! im admittedly surprised at the stats for this story so far just bc it's my first fic for the nct boiz but thank u for reading!! a side note: i'm going to use lots of musical terms in this story; since mark and the boys are already advanced in their studies im not going to explain every little thing but do feel free to ask or look up terms if you are confused. idk how versed in music you readers are and i dont want to make people confused so i'll put a few terms here in the beginning notes though if i know the story inherently won't explain it much, or at least to this depth.
> 
> \-- figured bass: a fancy way to notate chord inversions that focuses on the intervals between notes in a chord
> 
> \-- embouchure: the way someone applies their mouth to the mouthpiece of their instrument . saxophonists place the mouthpiece between their lips, flautists purse their lips and blow down into the embouchure hole , trumpeters buzz into their mouthpiece with their lips pressed together.
> 
> \-- sonata: a solo instrument piece in multiple movements that can be performed with or without piano/clavichord accompaniment. (a movement is a section of a song with a new theme/theme development and/or tempo change. sometimes key changes are included. you can think of it like the next chapter in a book.)
> 
> \-- concerto: a piece composed for a solo instrument feature with orchestral/chamber accompaniment.
> 
> \-- etude: a piece meant to be an exercise to improve technique or show off those mad skillz
> 
> \-- fugue: a piece that focuses on developing one or two themes through multiple voices (like one is the melody and the others are backup harmonies/counter melodies in vocal pieces) and repetition/imitation.
> 
> \-- relative minor: every major key (the happy sounding key) has a relative minor key where the pitches are exactly the same but sound minor/sad because of the order and the "minor sound" quality of the harmonic progression
> 
> \-- solo (jazz): when an instrumentalist improvises a melody over the changes and form of a song. think of it like poems having AABA rhyme structure. songs have that too and to "take a solo over the form" means creating a new poem (melody) with that same AABA structure.
> 
> \-- head (jazz): the melody and chords that make up the song form.

Renjun and Donghyuck join Mark for breakfast in a unusual fashion. Mark learned early on that the two are typically dead asleep by the time he’s back from his morning run, so he’s admittedly surprised when the two plop down at his table in the dorm’s common room. He merely raises an eyebrow as he chews at his buttered toast and turns back to reviewing his theory homework when neither boy speaks up.

 

“So,” Renjun starts up, pulling Mark’s attention from the books before him. “I hear you’ve met Jungwoo.”

 

Mark’s eyes widen just a bit. “You know Jungwoo?”

 

“He was in my rhythm class last term and Renjun and I hang out outside the theatre for Chenle, so he passes by on occasion because he’s in the pit for the _Rent_ play this term. He always says hi since he recognizes me,” shrugs Donghyuck as he reaches for the last piece of toast on Mark’s plate.

 

Mark is half tempted to swat his friend’s hand away but figures it’s not worth the effort and just glares before turning to Renjun. “How come you’ve never mentioned him before?”

 

“I never had a need to but last night my theory class held a last minute group study session. Jungwoo is our usual tutor and he mentioned meeting you to me.” the youngest of the trio shrugs. “I don’t know why he figured I knew you; maybe because he sees me and Donghyuck and knows Donghyuck is your roommate? I didn’t bother to ask, though; I kinda needed to focus more on scale modes than how he knew about us being friends.”

 

“You’re in orchestra with me, I’m pretty sure that’s how he connected the dots,” chuckles Mark before he takes a gulp from his water cup. “What brings you two to my table this early though? I know neither of you have 9 am classes this semester.”

 

Renjun and Donghyuck share a look that sends slight panic through Mark. He slowly places his water cup down and closes his theory books with narrowed eyes. Renjun speaks up first. “This was Donghyuck’s idea. He knows Jaemin comes over to this dorm to greet his friend Jeno and figured since Jeno and I are somewhat friends, I could convince the two of them to sit and eat with us.”

 

Mark turns to Donghyuck who is too busy stuffing his mouth with stolen toast to offer more than a shrug. “I called him cute once, Hyuck.”

 

The younger man swallows his food. “Actually, it was almost every day after class so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Every other week.”

 

“Don’t lie to me, Mark; we’re roommates. I know who you find cute.”

 

“Oh, who is our lovely Student Body President crushing on this semester?”

 

Mark turns at the intrusion and freezes at the sight of Jeno at Renjun’s side, Jaemin on the other side of Jeno with a water bottle in hand. The flautist feels his throat get tight and he quickly opens his books to a chapter he can barely understand in the first place. Donghyuck giggles behind his hand and turns his attention from Mark to introduce himself properly to Jeno and Jaemin. Mark knows Jeno because of orchestra but Renjun is definitely much closer to the young man for reasons Mark doesn’t know. He definitely didn’t know Jeno was friends with Jaemin.

 

“It’s nothing,” mumbles Mark, looking up with a forced smile. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose from the sudden motion and he adjusts them with a cough.

 

Jaemin smiles and Mark’s gut twists again. “Oh,” the brunette starts, recognition in his eyes, “we were in class together last term, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Mark stutters, fidgeting with the open page of his textbook. Jaemin’s smile grows wider. “You gave me your number since we were on the same analysis team for the class project at the end of the term.”  


 

Jaemin furrows his brow and Mark decides he’d be better off never opening his mouth again near this man. “Oh right, yeah. You never did text me after the project ended.”

 

“Was I supposed to?”

 

“Of course not, but it would have been nice.”

 

Donghyuck coughs obnoxiously loud and Mark glares daggers at his friend. “Sorry, I had toast stuck in my throat,” he smiles too wide and innocently and Mark decides he’ll lock Donghyuck out their room the next chance he gets. The strawberry blonde looks at his phone and mocks surprise. “Well, will you look at the time! I have to get across campus and pick up a late book; Mark, you have theory soon, don’t you? You should get going.”

 

“Ah, I need to get going too,” starts Jaemin, sliding his sleeve up to inspect his watch. Mark inspects too, probably a little too much when Jaemin’s eyes quickly turn to him and Mark feels the splotches of red on his cheeks from the eye contact. “Hey, do you wanna walk over together?”

 

Mark struggles to find the words for a coherent agreement, embarrassment growing stronger inside him until Jeno fills in the blanks. “You two walk on ahead; I want to chat with Renjun a bit about our English class,” the raven haired man smiles warmly and waves for Jaemin to go. Mark quickly grabs all his books and stuffs them in his bag as Donghyuck snickers under his breath at the urgency in Mark’s actions.

 

“Shut up before next time I’m making you choke on toast,” Mark snaps, any anger in his voice masked by him dropping his pencil bag while rushing toward the door before Jaemin.

 

Jaemin, ever the kindest soul, picks it up with laughter on his tongue and passes it along to Mark, their fingers brushing against each other in the process. Mark can’t quite understand why he’s so flustered by Jaemin; it isn’t as if they have never spoken before. The flautist was pretty calm in their shared class even if he did whine to Donghyuck about how pretty Jaemin’s eyes are or how intelligent he is or how Mark was really excited to get his number even though he tried his best to play it off cool. Now though, Mark is sure he looked like a complete idiot in front of the other man which is a hard knock on his carefully crafted image.

 

Jaemin starts off the conversation, laid back and calm while Mark can hear his own heartbeat bursting through his veins at every step they take together toward the music hall. “Sorry for making you all jittery,” he begins, running a hand through his carefully brushed locks. “We appeared kind of suddenly at your table but Jeno saw Renjun and got excited. I couldn’t say no to him wanting to drop by.”

 

“No, it’s okay! Don’t worry about me. I just have a big test today.” That wasn’t exactly a lie; the test was big, but it wasn’t anything Mark couldn’t handle. “Sorry about not texting you, though. Things have been a bit hectic with the start of the new term and now I’m suddenly in jazz band on top of it.” The thought of Lucas makes Mark’s brow furrow and he hisses under his breath as the duo turn a corner. “Damn it, it’s Wednesday.”

 

“Got something big on Wednesdays?”  


 

“No,” he answers truthfully, as in his mind it’s really not a big deal. It’s more of a big nuisance in his day, “just a lesson.”

 

They walk in silence until Jaemin splits from Mark to get to the social sciences buildings across campus. Mark’s surprised Jaemin walked him all the way to the music halls when he has to be on the other side of campus and that realization makes a warm feeling in his chest blossom until it’s visible on his face. Mark ends up in class early which rewards him with extra time to study even though he knows he already understands the concepts that will be present on the exam. Better to be safe that sorry is Mark’s motto and when the exam lands in his hands and he’s on the last question where he has to parse the progression of a Bach etude using figured bass, he finds himself thanking his past self for those extra few minutes spent reviewing what inversion _4/3_ denotes.

 

Mark continues on throughout the day in his various music classes, studying rhythm and composition after a quick lunch with Donghyuck and Renjun. He runs into Jaemin outside the math building, the younger man leaving his statistics class as Mark rushes into his calculus class. They exchange small smiles and Mark’s heart races in his chest again when Jaemin says _see you later_ in passing. Calculus seems to go by a lot faster while Mark spends most of the class mentally chasing after the smile Jaemin sent him only a few minutes ago.

 

Between calculus and an upcoming short student council meeting lies an hour and a half for Mark to practice his instrument. It’s not much time but he takes what he can get and makes the most out of it. He focuses solely on warmup for the first hour, his lips quickly puckered in the familiar stance for his embouchure. During his lesson yesterday Mark’s professor gave him the CPE Bach flute sonata in A minor to work on for a recital in a few months. The hardest part about this piece is making sure his tone sounds consistent. Mark is already well known for having a beautifully airy but solid tone so that shouldn’t be too much of an issue, but keeping the piece in style will require special attention to detail. Last term Mark focused heavily on concertos with the orchestra for his final project. During his first year at the school though, Mark worked a lot with Donghyuck on piano and flute duets, which is how they became fast friends and decided to be roommates for their sophomore year. Donghyuck is really good at adapting his trills and tempo fluctuations to simulate the original era a song was written in and Mark definitely leans on him a lot to help himself with that level of detail so this time Mark’s left on his own to perfect the minor bits.

 

It won’t be too hard a piece to master though all three movements are long and with the practice time he has being bit into twice a week thanks to jazz band and Lucas, Mark won’t have as much time as he thought to work on it especially on top of the etudes he has to write in composition class.

 

The council meeting goes by too quickly for the number of times Mark keeps checking the time. He’s almost praying for 6 PM to take it’s time to arrive because it only brings him closer to the dreaded 8 PM hour. He’s happy he has dinner to look forward to, a nice distraction before the inevitable arrives.

 

Renjun and Donghyuck are already waiting at a table for Mark, waving him over when he walks past with his tray piled with food. To Mark’s surprise, Jeno and Jaemin are also seated at the table, Jeno launching into a story about how his wind ensemble quartet ended up a measure apart from each other down the line until the song turned into a round. Jaemin’s laughing at the story but looks up when Mark sits down next to him, greeting Mark with a smile. The warmth that consumed Mark’s chest the last time they greeted each other fills him up once more.

 

Mark doesn’t think he has it this _bad_ for Jaemin but being near Jaemin more and Jaemin initiating all communication seems to be doing a number on Mark. He’s not upset about it at all, but he does wish his emotional reactions could calm down before he spills soup all over himself just because Jaemin looks in Mark’s general direction. Luckily for Mark’s reflex skills’ downgrades from Jaemin’s presence, Jaemin spends most of the time exchanging glances with everyone else about the table especially Jeno as Mark eats his food and simply listens to his friends chat about their days.

 

Dinner can be seen as what little rest outside of sleep Mark typically gets during his long busy days. It gives him the chance to connect with the people he loves most on this campus without worrying immediately about homework, exams, sectionals, and all the other stresses during the day. They share stories about events that happened when apart and they give advice for how to deal with problems that arise. Mark feels that he wouldn’t be able to accomplish half of what he does in school if it weren’t for the support network he has at his disposal. Renjun, Donghyuck, and Chenle have become paramount to Mark’s success as he has become to theirs and he knows he wouldn’t want it any other way. It helps him come to terms with living in a foreign country, helps him feel needed and comforted when his younger brother is in South Korea so far away from him with contact every other day at most. With the friends he has here, Mark can slip into Korean and not lose contact with the language and his friends can understand him and speak with him. It’s also great that they’re all in orchestra together so they can bond over their collective love for music, too.

 

“Has Jisung texted you today?” asks Renjun in Korean as he steals a meat sliver from Mark’s plate. Mark belatedly wonders if he should be more stern with his friends about stealing food from him—as they only seem to do it to him—but decides to let the issue go for the hundredth time.

 

“No,” Mark says in English with a sigh as he pokes at the green beans on his plate. He continues the rest of his answer in Korean. “The school year is about to end out there so he’s pretty busy studying.”

 

“Who’s Jisung?” asks Jaemin in Korean himself, raising a softly arched eyebrow as he turns to face Mark.

 

Mark blinks a couple times; he didn’t know Jaemin understands the language too. Something about that fact makes Mark giddy with excitement. He laughs warmly and turns to fully face the other man. “Jisung is my little brother. I haven’t seen him since I moved to Korea about six years ago. He’s four years younger than me.”

 

“Oh, that’s cute.” Usually Mark scoffs at such a comment but since it’s from Jaemin, a small smile develops on Mark’s lips and he shyly looks down at his wilted vegetables. Jaemin continues with a grin. “Younger brothers are adorable. I didn’t know you were the eldest.”

 

Mark nods and stuffs a forkful of corn in his mouth to keep himself from spilling his entire life story to the handsome man beside him. Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrows but cries out when Mark kicks him from under the table. Mark opens his mouth to reprimand his friend but an alarm on his phone rings to tell him he only has thirty minutes before his lesson with Lucas.

 

“I have to go,” he murmurs, gathering his used dishes to bus. “Renjun, come hang out with Hyuck and I when I come back from my lesson. We’ll be in our usual library study room upstairs.”

 

“Sounds great. Chenle can hang out a bit tonight too; he finished his AP studies early tonight.” Mark raises an eyebrow at Renjun’s words and the black haired boy scoffs. “Check the group chat more often than once a week, Mark Lee.”

 

Mark childishly sticks out his tongue at his friend as he grabs his backpack and flute case before saying goodnight to Jaemin and Jeno. “I’ll text you later,” he bravely says to Jaemin, waving his phone, which slips out his hand. He scrambles to grab it before it hits the floor and swiftly pockets it as Jaemin snickers at his clumsiness. With one final wave, Mark leaves the mess hall and strolls a few buildings north toward the music rehearsal rooms, only realizing he has no clue where he’s supposed to meet Lucas.

 

_It’s me; Mark Lee, again. We never talked about what practice room we’re going to use for the lessons._

 

The black haired boy watches the ellipses appear in the chat and feels somewhat relieved to be getting an answer quickly.

 

**_i know it’s you texting me rn. saving numbers is a thing you know_ **

 

Mark snorts to himself. _Better to be safe than sorry._

 

**_sure lol anyway im thinking we could be in room 21 on the other end of the building we have rehearsal in_ **

 

_Okay. I’ll make my way over._

 

**_sounds good_ **

 

Mark starts to pocket his phone but then realizes another thing. _Also how long is this supposed to be? You don’t think it’ll be an hour, do you?_

 

**_im getting extra credit but not two-three hrs a week of extra credit lol maybe half an hour at least for today ; once u start learning theres a chance we might go a bit over thirty min but dont fret_ **

 

_Alright_.

 

**_yeh no need to get panties in a twist i dont want to be with u for long either_ **

 

Mark frowns, something he finds himself doing a lot at when on his phone if Lucas is the one he’s texting. Granted this is only his second time texting Lucas but it says a lot that he’s frowning so much because of this man.

 

_That’s not why I asked but thanks for the confirmation that you dislike me._

 

**_i dont dislike you_ **

 

_Then what’s up with your attitude? Since we met you’ve been so rude to me._

 

The ellipses appear for a few seconds then disappear for longer than they originally appeared. Mark figures Lucas has gotten distracted and doesn’t bother with waiting for an answer. He would rather hear what Lucas has to say in person anyway than find out whatever has Lucas despising him through Lucas’ passive grammar-less texting.

 

Mark makes it to room 21 first. His flute is at his lips as he finishes the first section of his warm up exercises by the time Lucas comes in. The brunette is wearing a tank top and gym shorts, hair damp and soft against his face. His shoulders and arms are still a bit damp with water. He sends Mark a smile that Mark can’t tell is fake or not before setting his bags and alto case down to start unpacking.

 

“Sorry I’m a few minutes late; I was at the gym and lost track of time.”

 

“You work out?” Mark ponders, watching Lucas’ arms flex as he adjusts the neck strap for his instrument.

  
Lucas nods as he pulls out a reed from his reed casing that’s zipped up in his saxophone case. He sucks it in his mouth to wet it before sliding it into his mouthpiece. “Yeah and I’m on the intramural basketball team here. I work out a lot back home, though.”

 

The taller man slides his mouthpiece onto the saxophone neck and then tightens the reed in its slot against the mouthpiece just a bit before blowing into the instrument. His fingers quickly press against the golden pads, testing the fluidity he has with fast lines to make sure none of his pads are sticking. When Lucas seems content with how he sounds, he pulls the mouthpiece out from between his lips and motions for Mark to sit.

 

Mark, who is a bit enamored by the way the muscles in Lucas’ arms flexed as he plays, quickly gathers his thoughts and sits down, glaring at his feet for being so easily distracted.

 

Lucas seems not to notice or if he does, he doesn’t bother to point it out. “First of all, you need to listen to jazz more often. You’re not going to learn how to swing just because I’m teaching it to you.” He takes out his phone and places it on the stand before digging into his backpack for a speaker. “The song I want you to listen to the most for the rest of this week is a song called _Au Privave_. It’s a common blues head by Charlie ‘Bird’ Parker; one of the greatest alto saxophonists who ever lived.”

 

The transfer student unlocks his phone and turns on his speaker, humming to himself as he scrolls through his music library to play the song. Mark sits patiently, excitement at learning something new taking over whatever anger he had at Lucas for his attitude at their first meeting. Mark isn’t quite sure what to expect when the song starts playing but the melody is catchy and doesn’t sound very hard note-wise. The song has a quick tempo, which makes him a bit nervous given it’s his first shot at jazz but he’s somewhat confident in Lucas’ teaching skills to not want to make a fool out of Mark just because he can.

 

“Do you have the score?” asks Mark as he stands up, situating his body so he’s watching Lucas adjust his neck strap.

 

The saxophonist laughs. “Score? No, we won’t read the music off paper here; it’ll only hinder your growth and I want to get this done with as soon as possible.” Mark rolls his eyes while he crosses his arms. “What; you classical folk don’t play music without the notes on the paper?”

 

“We do.”

 

“Then there shouldn’t be a problem.” he wets his reed and licks his lips with intent before playing the first four notes of the melody to their exact rhythm. “We’re going to learn the melody aurally.”

 

“By ear?”

 

“No, by touch,” snarked Lucas as he flexed his fingers across the pads of his keys. “Yes, by ear. If you read the music off the paper, you’ll play your eighth notes as straight as that pole in your hands and we don’t want that.”

 

Mark’s tempted to argue about Lucas calling his flute a goddamn pole but figures it’s only the perfect bait for Mark to bite in Lucas’ mind. Lucas wants to pick a fight—he wants this to be a terrible experience for whatever reason Mark may never know, but Mark shouldn’t stoop to his level. So he brings up his arms and places his lips at the flute’s embouchure hole with no protest. Lucas nods silently and plays the first four notes again. “Make sure you mimic me exactly. It’s going to feel weird moving between these notes using a rhythm you’ve never touched before but it gets easier with time.”

 

Mark blows into his flute and feels relief consume his body when he hits the correct note. He’s not able to always guess notes right out of the blue, but with some surrounding notes and a pitch to relate to all other notes, he’s pretty good at learning by ear. He plays the other three notes easily and pulls his flute down just a bit to look up at Lucas with raised eyebrows. Lucas bites at his bottom lip and plays the notes again. “Really make sure you’ve got the rhythm down. It’s a hard swing feel, almost like a triplet missing the middle child.”

 

“Can you play the recording again so I can play with it?”

 

“It’s too fast for you right now; at least get the first full phrase down before we turn to playing with the legend.”

 

It takes about 20 minutes for Mark to play the first four measures adequately enough for Lucas to agree to play the recording again. It’s much too fast for Mark as Lucas had said and the flautist accidentally slips into his familiar straight eighths marching band-esque eight note rhythms to keep up with the moving notes. He asks Lucas to restart the recording and he tries again, falling back on his most comfortable way to play eighth notes in the process.

 

“How do you keep swinging when you play that fast?” Mark growls, frustration taking over any excitement he had after he messes up for the eleventh time in a row.

 

“Just listen a few times.” Lucas smiles softly as he scrolls back to the beginning and presses play. They sit in silence and listen until Bird’s saxophone solo begins and then Lucas repeats that section again. Mark doesn’t know how many times they listen before Lucas starts singing along softly under his breath.

 

Mark isn’t sure what Lucas is saying. It doesn’t sound like actual words and he wonders if the other man slipped into Thai or Chinese but the syllables coming out of his mouth don’t seem to have any inherent meaning. There’s _voo_ , _vee_ , _bee_ , _dee_ , _da_ , _do_ , and other similar sounds spilling from his lips and Mark looses track of where in the melody they are as he’s too distracted by whatever Lucas is doing. When Lucas notices Mark hasn’t been paying attention for at least the past 2 replays, he pauses and raises an eyebrow. “What’s up?”  


 

“What were you singing? There aren’t any lyrics to this song, are there?”

 

“No,” the saxophonist chuckles to himself. “I was scatting, or at least trying to. It’s jazz singing or improvisation when you don’t have lyrics. You attach random but workable syllables to the notes you wanna sing in order to mimic an instrument. It’s almost like making up lyrics on the fly but the pitch and the sound the syllables create when you sing them is the most important part, not the lexical meaning.” Lucas shrugs. “There are no lyrics to this song; we would have looked at those first if there were. It’s always good to look at lyrics to songs so we can envelope their meaning when we play.”

 

Mark nods and opens his mouth to ask a question about how long Lucas has been playing but finds himself interrupted when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He picks it up and notices the time along with an entire spam in his friend’s group chat about where he is and why he isn’t at the library yet.

 

“Fuck,” whispers Mark, quickly pulling apart his flute as he struggles to gather all his belongings. Lucas watches him with confusion. “We’ve gone over by 30 minutes; my friends have been waiting for me all this time.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Mark pauses as he’s grabbing his backpack from the piano bench. Was that disappointment he heard in Lucas’ voice? Did Lucas not want to end this lesson even though he was the one adamant they only take half an hour? Mark is tempted to pester but figures his luck has run dry by this point and that now Lucas knows they went over he will go back to being the cranky guy Mark met only yesterday.

 

“Thanks,” Mark smiles as he makes his way out the door. “I’ll see you in band tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah. I hope you can prove to me that you’ve listened to _Au Privave_ a lot by then.”

 

Mark smiles to himself and hurries down the hall as fast as he can to get to the library before Chenle has to return home. He gets to their usual study room just as Renjun is finishing up some story about a game he was playing with Jeno after dinner down on the campus lawn. The others are somewhat surprised to see him having suspected Mark wasn’t going to come after all. Donghyuck remarks that maybe Mark had forgotten about an important council meeting and couldn’t make it out for the group meet up.

 

Mark makes sure to clarify the situation as he grabs an unoccupied bean bag from the other side of the room and flops into it. “No, it wasn’t council that kept me late. It was a jazz lesson.”

 

Chenle and Renjun both make faces. “You have to take lessons now?” the former huffs, the breath from his hair causing his blonde bangs to ruffle in the self-made breeze. “I thought you were just sitting in the band to learn as you go.”

 

“Well, I have to learn to sound like the music first of all,” snorts Mark as he leans his head back into his makeshift chair. “I’m doubling with someone and if I sound like a sore thumb the whole band is gonna sound bad.”

 

The others nod and a comfortable silence seeps into the room as each boy turns back to their studies until Chenle perks with something in mind. “Hey, do you guys know that junior trumpet player? Ten is his nickname I think. Anyway, he’s one of the dancers in the theatre.”

 

“What makes you bring him up?” asks Donghyuck, pencil eraser between his lips as he reads a chapter in his textbook with slightly strayed concentration.

 

“Today he mentioned a new kid in jazz band during rehearsal. Something about his cousin being salty about the new guy.”

 

Mark can feel everyone’s eyes on him but he keeps his eyes glaring straight into the calculus textbook in his lap. “Someone’s salty about you joining the jazz band?” Donghyuck snorted loudly and Mark looked up with narrowed eyes. “Some jazz musicians are so elitist about anyone else playing the music. I bet you they wouldn’t like it if we treated the new saxophonist in orchestra that way.”

 

“Hey, it’s not like that.” Mark retorts, frowning to himself. “He’s used to doubling flute and it’s a little frustrating having someone who has never played jazz in his life take his spot. Besides, it’s a completely different style and it’s not elitist to want newcomers to play it right.” The flute player points at Donghyuck. “You’re always on my ass about making sure I sound like I’m from the Baroque period with my sound when I often default to impressionism. It’s simple respect to want people to play the music as it’s meant to be not whatever is easiest.”

 

Chenle nods to himself. “Right; in the theatre pit I have to play funk style guitar while we’re working on _Rent_. And Jungwoo can’t be playing modern modal jazz licks during his solo over a bluesy funk tune. We all have to stay in the style and respect it.”

 

Donghyuck shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I meant when I said elitist. It’s just rude of him to be mad at you just because you’ve never played jazz before. It doesn’t give you the opportunity to learn if he’s gonna be pissy about it.”

 

“He’s my teacher now and so far hasn’t been pissy about that. Maybe yesterday was a bad day for him.”

 

“What’s his name?” Renjun asks, curiosity pulling him from his books.

 

“Lucas. Lucas Wong.”

 

The other three share confused looks before Renjun shrugs. “I’ve never heard that name but I’m still new here. Maybe Jeno and Jungwoo can shed some light on him for me.”

 

The group doesn’t chat about anything else of significant importance for the rest of the study session, Chenle leaving after a call from his mom to go back home. Since Chenle is leaving, Renjun also departs to walk the youngest back home and also get to his dorm which is in the opposite direction of Mark’s and Donghyuck’s. The last two take their time in the study room, helping each other with music homework until the library is about ready to close up and they have to leave.

 

Back in their room after hot showers to wash away the dirt from the day, Mark scrolls through his phone and suddenly remembers his bold statement earlier about texting Jaemin. It’s after 1 am and Mark probably shouldn’t message the younger man when he’s most likely sleeping but Mark doesn’t know if he’ll have the guts to do so at any other point in time. He sends Jaemin a short hello anyway and wishes him goodnight.

 

Donghyuck turns off the light while humming a four-voiced piano fugue he’ll be performing for his recital. He spent time deciphering with Mark’s help earlier in the library, so Mark starts humming along to Donghyuck’s amusement. He’s about to comment on the progression the theme undertakes to reach the relative minor when his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

 

_Goodnight to you as well, Mark. See you tomorrow (_ 。 ◕ _‿_ ◕｡ _)_

 

Mark can’t help himself when he falls asleep with a smile on his face and his mind swarming with thoughts about Jaemin texting cute emoticons that make Mark’s heart fond with affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for reading and until next update!!~

**Author's Note:**

> if you want, feel free to listen to the songs i talk about in the fic! you dont need to listen to understand what's going on, the songs aren't important rn and when they are i'll explain in the fic but i definitely recommend listening!


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